sermon excerpts: "In the End There's Love"

... At this point in my life, things became clear that it was time for me to move on. I guess I’ve been writing this sermon in my mind for several weeks now. Since the moment when I realized that I would not be here much longer.

There’s no identifiable moment or event that caused me uproot our lives. Pretty much since I’ve been here, I’d been receiving letters and calls from people and churches wondering if I was interested in a change. As I closed in on 7 years of wonderful ministry with you, I found myself actually wondering and thinking about these other opportunities.

If anything, it’s come to the point where I am too comfortable if that can be a bad thing. The edge is gone, that healthy feeling of anxiousness and uneasiness that pushes me to excel and imagine. I won’t call it being in a rut but the sense that I’ve done all that I can. And it’s not fair to you to have a minister who feels like he’s done all that he can, that this is as good as it gets.

Maybe it’s like the disciples fishing all night without a nibble and the sense of futility. They worked so hard and were left feeling, “is this all there is?” Shifting focus and going in another direction they pull in a catch of 153.

This is not to say that our time together has been empty. Far from it; much good work has been done and many memories created and I know that I have grown and changed for the better because of the people here. My family is grateful for the welcome and care extended to us, the feeling of belonging and safety that resides here is a testament to the faith and work of this community.

I know the news is too fresh and a lot to process all at once. You may not be ready to think of this as an opportunity for you as a pastoral charge, to take stock of the situation, define where you want to go from here and what it is you need to get there. Although we are in the season of Easter; remembering that which seemed like a loss, was a springboard for a new understanding and a new way of being.

One approach is to look at life as a set of losses and moving on. I’m not usually this negative, so I point to the unimagined possibilities of what could be and the bigger picture assurance that life and goodness will triumph. That is the Christian understanding of how our world works. But I am acutely aware that it’s easy for me to say this now because I know what I’m doing next.

Jesus is pointing the way to life without him. I won’t compare myself to him, but his final instructions for the disciples are about love. About demonstrating that love, through the care and tending to the flock, to the needs of others.

One of my favourite movies the independent Canadian movie “Hard Core Logo” a rock and roll, road trip story with dark side. It is a fictional documentary of a punk band getting back together for one last benefit tour. Everything unravels, secrets and lies are out in the open and a fistfight breaks out during their last concert.

Amid the chaos and confusion, as their world comes to an end, the bass guitarist who was really too sensitive to be part of a brash and in-your-face punk rock band to begin with, takes the microphone and offers his message, his way of making sense of the turmoil that is surrounding him. He just repeats over and over, “in the end there’s love, in the end there’s love …”

In the end, as Peter professes his love for Christ, that is all the disciples can hold onto. Jesus echoes, “feed my lambs”, “tend my sheep”, “feed my sheep”. That is what his love meant: nurturing and feeding the flock. His call is for Peter to follow him. Not literally, because Jesus is going places none of us can. But as we all move forward with each day, each passing moment, each decision we make, we can at least follow Jesus.

We can follow in the way of his love. By caring for others, reaching out beyond ourselves and acting with compassion with no thought to cost or inconvenience to ourselves. We believe in a force bigger and greater than ourselves and trust that things will work out in the end. And so, Jesus’ last words to Peter match his first ones: “Follow me”.

Life is full of new opportunities. Just ask Saul, who was on a savage quest to arrest those followers of Jesus. He was witness to the stoning death of Stephen, he did all he could to quell the threat these Christians represented to the status quo. He experiences the presence of Christ and struck blind. He has to trust the guidance and leadership others.

He was humbled and vulnerable and came to realize his place in God’s world. He was no longer one to judge and punish others. He experiences the light of Christ and sees that he could not keep doing what he was doing. And in this realization his name is changed to Paul.

There will be some competition between Peter and Paul as they both lead the new church in their own way, as they try to discover the path that God wants them to follow. And such is our time on earth. We are travel the same path for a while with others but eventually, we go our own way because circumstances change, we as people change. Certainly I am a different person than I was 7 years ago. And this pastoral charge is different that it was 7 years ago.

I don’t want to say that we’ve grown apart, because then it sounds like those platitudes that couples give when they’re breaking up. Maybe I don’t want to admit that that is what this is, a breakup. I haven’t done this before, and it’s certainly the toughest thing I’ve had to do in my ministry so far, “requesting a change in pastoral relationship” is the technical term which sounds rather detached and impersonal. That’s hardly the case, my heart would start pounding whenever I would think of this moment.

It has to be the right thing to do because it is so difficult for me. And it is not the end; there are a few months yet. We don’t have to say our goodbyes right now.

Life is small enough that we will reconnect and for a few months yet, our paths will continue to travel together as we follow Christ. Tending to the needs of the world, expressing our love and our faith, imagining what the future might hold, we venture forth. Uncertain, relying on our trust and faith that God will see us through.

And those familiar words ring ever more true: We are not alone. We live in God’s world. Thanks be to God. Thanks be to you.